


Humanity

by Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone



Category: DC Comics, Superman - Fandom
Genre: Clark Kent is an angel, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone/pseuds/Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone
Summary: Clark pampers you through a bout of bad mood.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Plus Size Reader, Clark Kent/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> @youwerenevermeanttofeelalone on tumblr.

Bored out of your mind, annoyed with the fact that your mood didn’t seem to show signs of getting better, you dragged your blanket toward the couch, ignoring Clark’s presence as you passed the kitchen — thankfully, it was his turn to do the dishes. Resting your head on your own hand, you turned the TV on with the other one and went through Netflix’s catalog. A movie had to help, not a tv show because you didn’t feel patient enough that day. 

Nothing caught your attention. Everything was either too long, too dramatic, or too flashy; the few interesting titles would surely make you cry, you weren’t up for that. Was something entertaining too much to ask? Apparently so. If only you could take a nap... you had tried already, after taking a shower you had laid down in your favorite position under the fan’s light breeze but your body wasn’t having it. 

Music hadn’t been helpful either, it uncharacteristically gave you a headache you weren’t able to shake off. It had been what lead you to take that shower and although the water had been nice it didn’t work that well. 

You were growing tired. You hadn’t done much throughout the day yet your body was killing you as much as your exhausted mind. Your only option was taking a walk; if only that didn’t mean having to get off the couch, or getting changed out of your pajamas, or being forced to leave the cozy apartment...

Clark lifted your legs to sit down, placing them back onto his lap. He had expected you to make a teasing comment or offer him to pick a film but you didn’t acknowledge him.

Picking the spike in your heartbeat, he worriedly asked, “Are you feeling unwell, love?” Your only answer was a grunt as you attempted to get more comfortable under the blanket. His questionary continued, “do you need a doctor?”

“‘M just tired.”

His oceanic gaze fixed on the exposed side of your face. Extending a hand, he cupped your cheek. You stared at him, not moving at all. Clark gave you a small smile, an assuring one, and dropped his hand to your shoulder to then slid it to your back. 

Carefully, he pulled you closer. To be successful, he first made you sit up and then struggled for a few seconds to lay on his back before manhandling you to lay on his chest. You rested your head on his sternum. 

His quiet breathing, steady and light, had always given you a sense of security. Clark made you feel protected all the time, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Protected of evildoers, of things out of your control, of yourself. Although you knew he couldn’t protect you from bouts of bad mood, it was nice to know he was willing to. He must’ve been aware of what was going on, he didn’t ask what was wrong or if you wanted him to do something about it — Clark just laid there, holding you tight against his warm body. 

Awareness of the situation didn’t make him less worried. Clark found your distress upsetting — he would never say it out loud because it wasn’t your fault, he simply wished he could do something to stop it, something to continuously make sure you were happy. It was unrealistic when you were such a humanly person, and that thing he didn’t want to change, not when he had fallen for you because of that. 

The slump of your shoulders was a promising sign, progressively your heartbeat steadied while he traced patterns on your clothes back with the tips of his fingers. His hand slipped, unintentionally tickling you, and Clark couldn’t hide the chuckle out of the relief that erupted from his chest. Your laughter filled the room and Clark could breathe properly again. 

Resting your chin on his chest, you looked up. The dullness lingered in the depth of your gaze, but the tears the laughter had erupted made them shine almost normally. You kissed his chin, hugging yourself tighter to his waist. Clark leaned forward to kiss your forehead, smiling against your crown because he knew how much you liked it when he did, and reminded you, “I love you.”

Oh, he did. When you were in such a bubbly mood you danced throughout the apartment, when you couldn’t shut up about the new show you were watching, when you worried so much you weren’t able to sleep, when you showed how much you cared in your peculiar ways like making him wear a jacket on rainy days even though he couldn’t get sick, when you laughed hard at your own jokes, when you cried out of frustration because you wanted to save the world like he did, when you slept curled up against his side only to wake up with your back on his chest and your hair in his nose and mouth, when you fought him over the smallest things conceivable. There wasn’t a moment in which he didn’t love you. 

Your voice took him out of his reflective episode, sweet and low. “Clark?”

“What is it, darling?”

You giggled, making him the most human he ever had. “I asked if we could move to bed.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, never. If there was something he treasured more than humanity, that was you. Your comfort meant his own, your happiness his motivation, and your love what kept him going when the world showed its uglier shades. Once in bed, he hugged you from behind, angling his face to kiss your cheek and neck. You placed your hands on his forearms, allowing yourself to relax in the arms of the person you loved the most. 

Humming when he asked if you were feeling better, you nuzzled as closer to him as you were able to and closed your eyes with his breath breezing your neck. Everything would be okay, it always ended up turning more than fine with Clark there.


End file.
